


Congruency

by prairiecrow



Series: Geometry [3]
Category: Knight Rider (1982), Torchwood
Genre: First Kiss, Loss of Control, M/M, Missed Medication, Pheromones, Rough Kissing, Temptation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 02:22:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prairiecrow/pseuds/prairiecrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Usually Jack can let that fond glance and teasing smile pass as mild flirtatiousness that KITT, so new to human forms of experience, is unable to really comprehend in his inexperience and his innocence.</p><p>Tonight, though —</p><p>— tonight it barrels through the night like a bullet and hits him like Mack truck, right between the eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Congruency

Jack knows he's in trouble when he glances at his wristwatch while en route to the oldest residential section of Cardiff and realizes that he's already missed today's scheduled dose of android pheromone counteragent by a good two and a half hours. He can't exactly tell his team that they need to break off the hunt and hightail it back to the Hub so he can get his secret weekly dose of anti-lust medication, and it's not like Owen carries a spare hypo loaded with the drug cocktail tucked away in his medkit.

That's going to change, Jack vows: in future, he's going to order Owen to hide vials of the stuff in every place it might conceivably be needed. He realizes he's been lucky so far, but it looks like his luck has just run out.

Still, as he drives the Torchwood SUV into Gordun Plass Jack reflects that maybe it won't be so bad. After all, he's been getting regular injections once a week for almost three months: maybe, just maybe, he's built up a certain degree of immunity. All he has to do is play his cards close to his vest and not make any extravagant bets and he should — probably — be just fine.

*****************************************

So of course when everybody pairs off he calls KITT as his partner. Of course he does, because he's a high-rolling gambler son of a bitch who's never met a risk he didn't like to take.

Besides, he's only three hours off. Hardly any time at all, and he's been playing this particular game long enough that he has his role as "friendly but businesslike team leader" down pat. It even makes strategic sense to take the android with him: Tosh and her scanner are with Owen, after all, and KITT's senses are far keener than human in ways that make him almost as useful when it comes to spotting things like anomalous energy signatures.

All Jack has to do is keep a bit of physical distance between them, and everything will be just fine.

*****************************************

Three hours becomes five, and still they're combing the shadowy back lanes looking for any sign of the alien egg cluster that's got to be hiding around here somewhere. It's almost one in the morning, a light mist of rain is falling, and Jack's stomach is starting to growl.

"Y'know," he remarks as he bounces up on his toes to peer inside an empty but highly odiferous garbage bin, "I could murder somebody for a kebab right now. Even one of those stringy dodgy little salmonella factories from Olaf's corner shop."

The real hunger he's feeling is something he definitely can't afford to think about. But unfortunately, not thinking about something isn't the same thing as being able to ignore the blood-deep pulse of essential instinct.

KITT, who's walked into the middle of the alley and paused to turn his head in a slow scan, just sounds amused: "You really will eat anything, won't you?"

 _I'd wolf you down in about three bites,_ Jack thinks ravenously, unable to resist a covetous sidelong glance at the android's ass. Even concealed beneath a black camel hair coat, it still manages to look absolutely amazing. Out loud he says: "Hey, I have my standards! For example, I won't touch those frozen Cornish pasties you seem think are manna from Heaven."

KITT snorts delicately. "Oh, please… that's rich, coming from a man who'll devour three-day-old French fries if Ianto hasn't thrown them out already!"

The garbage bin is clear except for a few slimy bits of paper in the corners. Jack abandons it to cross to KITT's position, glancing around as if his own non-enhanced vision might pick up something significant. "Believe me, in comparison to some of the things I've been forced to eat in the past, three-day-old French fries are positively _haute cuisine_." 

His scan complete, KITT turns a smile on his approaching team leader that makes Jack's heart, unprotected by Owen's medical magic, do a slow sweet flip in his chest: it's so indulgent, and so manifestly fond. Suddenly all he can think about is seeing that smile across a pillow, responding to his offer to perform the most deliciously obscene acts if KITT will only permit him the liberty… 

"You'll have to tell me about them sometime." He looks Jack up and down when he reaches him, and the way his gaze darts up to Jack's face at the end of the quick scrutiny, the scarlet glow of his eyes half-screened by long black lashes, sends the flip of Jack's heart accelerating out of control and the banked embers in his flesh flaring to incandescent life as KITT almost purrs: "In _exquisite_ detail."

It's not the first time the android has cast that particular glance in his direction, a glance it never offers anybody else on the team, but usually Jack's insulated from the warmth and the challenge of it by a long-acting dose of pheromonal counteragent. Usually he can let it pass as mild flirtatiousness that KITT, so new to human forms of experience, is unable to really comprehend in his inexperience and his innocence.

Tonight, though —

— tonight it barrels through the night like a bullet and hits him like Mack truck, right between the eyes.

Something inside Jack snaps like a brittle reed, bleeding red-hot, and before he realizes what he's doing he's got both hands fisted in the lapels of KITT's jacket, swinging him around and shoving him to the nearest wall. KITT, taken by complete surprise, doesn't even resist, just lets Jack slam him back against the bricks and stands there spread open, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape, staring into the human face glaring at him from close range.

Those damned enthralling inhuman _eyes_ , and Jack crowds even closer, his breath jetting against KITT's face in hard puffs and every square inch of his skin on fire in the damp spring night. 

"Captain?" It's barely a whisper, as KITT scans his features and his eyes cycle fast, trying to calculate what the hell is going on. Liquid blue energy flows along the line of his sharply contoured jaw with new intensity, telegraphing a depth of emotional response that makes Jack's heart beat even faster. "You really should let go of me."

"No." A guttural growl as raw as the throbbing of his trapped cock, as he closes the last couple of inches between them to press chest to chest, belly to belly, thigh to thigh through the android's elegant coat. "I don't think so."

The kiss is like honey and wine and cocaine all in one, the unadulterated hit of synthetic biochemicals flooding into Jack's body through the pressure of their lips, a poison almost unbearably sweet. He groans low in his throat and tries to get even closer, dominating and commanding with his mouth using every skill he's ever learned — 

— and he scarcely felt the stiffness of KITT's shock, but he certainly feels the instant when it changes. Instead of throwing him across the alley KITT's gloved hands clamp onto his waist inside his greatcoat and pull, cementing their physical connection. Jack seizes hold of that gorgeous face with both hands even as KITT surges forward, pushing and turning, and now it's Jack with his back to the wall, being kissed to within an inch of his life, and dear Goddess it's everything he ever imagined and more, and why the _hell_ did he wait so long —

KITT's mouth is so agile and cunning, so _alive_ , that it steals Jack's breath away and leaves him in helpless timeless free fall. When they finally break apart a scarce inch and a half all he can do is stare, every nerve in his body still singing rapturously with the contact high. KITT gazes back, his eyes half-lidded and a thin smile slowly blooming, and that's when Jack realizes he can't fight this anymore, either the urge to fuck or the chemically induced love he's been trying to hold at bay for so long. It surges over him like the sea, blinding and all-consuming, and his sense of self-preservation is submerged before it can even convince him to call for help on the comms.

For a breathless instant everything is laid bare between them, without the need for a single word. And Jack, utterly lost, never wants to find the safe haven of sanity ever again.

They're about to crash back into each other with the force of two neutron stars trapped in each other's gravitational fields when a male voice in Jack's ear calls urgently: " _We've found it! It's in a storage shed behind the flats at 32 Gable, and it looks about ready to hatch!"_

Owen's voice, like a splash of bitter reality right in Jack's eyes. He blinks, and is still trying to gather his wits enough to vocalize an acknowledgement when the medic adds: _"And be careful on your way in — the damned things were spraying psychoactive chemical residue on everything they touched. Don't want anybody breaking down in tears before we've got this thing sorted, now do we?"_

KITT does not blink. His ebony eyes shift sidelong as if to remind himself that Jack's hands are bare, before he lets go and steps away as cleanly as the strike of a knife, leaving Jack spread to the wall and staring in ice-cold bereavement.

"I see." The android's voice is crisp and cool, but Jack's rapidly beating heart insists on hearing an additional faint note of regret there. "Well. That certainly explains _that_." 

Jack finally gets his mouth to work: "Yeah." He pushes himself upright, gives his head a shake, tugs his coat out of disarray and runs a distracted hand through the tousle of his hair. "Must be… wow. That was…"

"Understandable, under the circumstances." KITT steps back as Jack steps forward, keeping a careful metre between them at all times. "Captain, I apolo—"

"Not your fault," Jack says with a ghastly attempt at heartiness. And it really isn't. "Come on," as he sets off down the alley at a brisk jog without looking back, "if we cut across the soccer pitch behind the school we can get there in three minutes, tops!"

That's the worst of this whole awful situation — as comforting as it would be to assign blame and use that anger to get some crucial emotional distance, Jack just can't do it, because KITT has no idea what his body is doing. And even if he did, he wouldn't be able stop it. 

And if he ever realized what was going on, Jack is under no illusions about the outcome: he would leave Torchwood without hesitation, to spare his human leader the distress and the danger caused by his mere presence in the same time zone. 

As they run side-by-side toward the shed at 32 Gable with Owen's narration of what they're about to face echoing in their ears, Jack pulls his shattered mental and emotional armour back into place as best he can, and resolves one thing for sure and certain: he got lucky this time, with a handy excuse presenting itself to explain his loss of control, but in future he'll do anything he must to avoid that degree of risk.

His mouth still burns. His heart aches, emptier than the night around them. That kiss, with its potent shot of pheromonal intoxicant, has sealed everything in stone: whatever happens, KITT must never be given cause to leave him behind, even for his own good.

Not now. 

Not ever. 

THE END


End file.
